The Winter Of My Soul

Having the urge to write, so here we are. Here I am.

I have spent the better part of a week and a half procrastinating study for the final two exams of my undergraduate degree. Time I have spent pouring over anatomy and kinesiology textbooks, laughing at how the sacral bones look like a stingray from one point of view, wondering when to begin a 40-day practice of intense core working kriya, applying for a full time job and undergoing two interviews, wondering why my soul is so silent.

My soul is so silent, and my eyes so tired. Sing me to sleep, for the silence I used to hear what couldn’t be heard but now I just hear white noise. Tugs of my soul going in every direction – this is it. The point I’ve fantasised about for a couple of years… If I do not pass these two exams then I will simply have an unfinished bachelor degree because I cannot physically, mentally, emotionally or spiritually put myself through it again – the undertaking of something that I lost passion for.

I feel like crying, like dying, like giving up all my trying. The pressure of finances, of path and purpose and passion and possibility – I feel it all collpasing in on me. The pressure coming from within to be special, to offer something unique, or to offer something so socially accepted. The pressure to find a time to teach that wouldn’t step on anyones toes. The overwhelming emotions I feel when I think about that.

The desire I have to ask my family if I can practice teaching them meditation, and maybe a bit of yoga, so that I won’t freak out teaching my practicum in a few months time. The pressure of studying two whole subjects in little over a week for two exams to pass a degree my heart gave up on several years ago. The tears and hatred at myself for not up and leaving and giving myself space when I needed it the most. The distress I feel at finding out the results of the interview… On one hand I would love to work there; the four women I know that work there have been wonderful… It would provide the basis for me to be able to financially support myself, to save toward my (ill-defined) goals… A welcome daily structure… The ability to move out of my family home… On the other hand… A full-time 9-5 office job sitting at a desk has been the epitome of what I have always said I didn’t want – at least since high school. Working for someone else. Four weeks of holidays a year. Office clothes. The extreme distress I felt before the interview yesterday – was that just pre-interview nerves or a deeper knowing? What if they call and offer me the job right now? What would I say?

If they do… then that would lead to one path. If they didn’t… I’m not sure what I’d do. Go camping for a few weeks if my boyfriend could make it work with me. In truth I’d love to go to Bali for an extended amount of time and just work out the next steps. Write. Yoga. Eat. Live. Give myself space to breathe.

But what if? What if? What if?

Does that mean leaving this man behind? A potential great source of income for future travels? Is it dishonest to accept work somewhere when your intentions are to only work there for 6-12 months, perhaps only up to 24? What do you do when you have no idea what to do? What do you do when you dream of an inner animal, the epitome of the wisdom of your own soul, toiling away at a desk, writing. Writing. Warm. Cosy. Solitary. Studious.

Something is going on. My energy elsewhere in the ether.

Silence fell like snow on my soul
my ears
loud
with
white
noise.

I cannot pray,
ask for guidance,
or connect –
there is something within
akin to a deep
disconect
still –
I trust
if my energy is
elsewhere
then i shall remain
Here
to lovingly &
patiently
await its
return.

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